Chapter 210: Storyteller Sips Wine and Talks with Eyes Closed

What does it mean to be truly powerful and wealthy? Only when the Murong siblings stepped into the Prince of Beiliang’s mansion did they understand the depth of entering a noble household. When they saw Listening Tide Lake and the grand Arsenal Pavilion standing by its shore, they gasped in awe. Fortunately, the evening banquet was modest, quite similar to that of an affluent merchant, without the lavish display of bells and cauldrons. The Crown Prince devoured his meal next to Xu Xiao, while Yuan Zuozong and Chu Lushan, also privileged to be seated, one slowly sipped wine and the other carefully tore off pieces of tender ginger duck.

Murong Wuzhu had seemed dazed since entering the mansion, eating distractedly. Her small buttocks barely touched the stool. Occasionally, Xu Xiao would serve Xu Fengnian a few dishes at the table, quietly remarking, "If Zihu were here, it wouldn't be my turn to serve you." The Crown Prince, who had been keeping his head down, merely paused for a moment before continuing to eat heartily, his cheeks bulging. After the meal concluded, a steward naturally led Princess Pei and the other guests to their accommodations.

After bathing and changing in Wutong Courtyard, Xu Fengnian stretched, feeling refreshed. The charming maids, led by Hongshu, usually quite chatty, were uncharacteristically quiet upon seeing the Crown Prince holding the Embroidery Winter saber. Xu Fengnian smiled warmly, gently touching each of their cheeks before walking out of the courtyard. He arrived outside Listening Tide Pavilion, pushed open the grand doors, ascended to the third floor, and found White Fox Face standing on a ladder, searching for secret manuals.

"Hey," he called out.

White Fox Face jumped down the long ladder. They looked at each other, neither speaking. The scene seemed neither warm nor tender, but that was perfectly fine; otherwise, Xu Fengnian imagined he would get goosebumps if two grown men exchanged tender glances. With Murong Tonghuang as a cautionary tale, he even felt a strange awkwardness around White Fox Face. White Fox Face then averted his gaze and returned to searching for a manual to complete his collection.

Seeing that White Fox Face had no intention of engaging in polite small talk, Xu Fengnian had to start the conversation himself. "I met Chen Yu. She's stunning, a true beauty. Her parents were truly prescient to name her Chen Yu; her looks could make fish sink and geese fall."

White Fox Face asked coolly, "Did you bring her back to the Prince of Beiliang's mansion?"

Xu Fengnian replied with self-mockery, "Not yet. She was whisked away by an urgent imperial decree from the capital. Otherwise, I would've definitely taught that woman a lesson about always finding someone better than yourself."

White Fox Face frowned, turned, and stared at the outspoken Crown Prince. A slight curve appeared at the corner of his mouth, devoid of any charm, but full of chilling killing intent. "Oh, so you’ve absorbed eighty percent of the Grand Yellow Court and now you think you're invincible? Did you waddle over to the arsenal with Embroidery Winter to imply you want me to cut you? Tell me, how many cuts would satisfy you?"

Xu Fengnian slowly placed Embroidery Winter behind his back, laughing awkwardly, "I just wanted to humble that arrogant woman, you know."

White Fox Face simply looked at the sheepish Crown Prince and asked, "Am I very familiar with you?"

Xu Fengnian thought about the question seriously, then replied with great sincerity, "You're not familiar with me, but I'm very familiar with you. How about that?"

White Fox Face turned, a faint curve on his lips, and said coolly, "Very spirited. No wonder the entire Beiliang is now flattering the Crown Prince."

Xu Fengnian, like a petty man puffed up with success, chuckled, "Too kind, too kind. But I've held it in for years; I had to find a chance to annoy those scholars who made their name by criticizing me."

White Fox Face shook his head helplessly.

Xu Fengnian asked curiously, "When will you ascend to the fourth floor?"

White Fox Face looked around and said, "It will be in the next few days."

Xu Fengnian sighed, "I don't expect to ever catch up to you in this life."

This time, White Fox Face didn't mock the Crown Prince. He said calmly, "What do high or low realms matter? Besides Wang Xianzhi, who dares claim victory against Li Dangxin, who has always remained in the Vajra Realm? Han Diaosi, from the imperial palace, can kill a Celestial Manifestation expert with a single finger; that's already accepted. Most cultivators from the three schools of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism have inflated realms; when it comes to killing enemies, you'd have to lower their stated realm by at least one to be accurate. That's why Xuanyuan Jingcheng, who achieved Confucian Saint status on Daxueping, could only perish with the Grand Celestial Manifestation expert Xuanyuan Dapan. Of course, the most formidable weapon of Confucians, bald monks, and Taoists is their mouths; they're quick to invoke 'acting on behalf of heaven' and make prophecies come true. It's understandable if they're not good at fighting."

Xu Fengnian gave a wry smile, "Good thing you're not a woman, otherwise, with such a sharp tongue, who would dare marry you?"

White Fox Face ignored Xu Fengnian's jest and simply extended his hand directly. Xu Fengnian hesitated, then shamelessly said, "This prince and Embroidery Winter have been inseparable for almost two years; I even hold it when I sleep. We've developed deep feelings. And if you're worried about Embroidery Winter getting tainted by commonness, why don't you..."

White Fox Face didn't retract his hand; he merely glared.

Killing intent, malevolence, dominance!

This was truly the makings of a future martial arts champion. No wonder Old Sword God Li viewed him as someone who would firmly sit atop the martial world's highest peak. At such a young age, he could already consider Land Immortals within his grasp. Xu Fengnian admitted he was eighteen streets behind, with countless bun shops, pawnshops, restaurants, and brothels in between. Comparing oneself to others was infuriating. The Crown Prince, who had just been praised for his spirit, quickly tossed Embroidery Winter over, then swiftly turned and ascended the stairs.

White Fox Face took the Embroidery Winter saber, tilted his head, and smiled without speaking. Xu Fengnian reached the top floor and sat upright. Li Yishan, gravely ill and increasingly gaunt, was writing with a stiff brush. Half an hour later, he slowly looked up and said, "The Xuanyuan family's hidden manuals have all been sorted. Nangong Pushe downstairs put in a lot of effort..."

Just as he spoke, Xu Xiao came upstairs with two pots of wine. He sat cross-legged, separated the three stacked green bowls. The aroma of wine filled the air. Li Yishan, if he had wine, would stop talking. After drinking one and a half pots of "Green Ant," a common wine, a slightly tipsy Li Yishan saw only half a pot left. He waved them away, signaling for them to leave. Father and son exchanged a smile, stood up, and left the top floor. Li Yishan poured himself a small bowl of wine, murmured "Empire," and drank it down. Then "Beauty," another small bowl, consumed with the thought of "Beauty." Following that, loyalty, sovereign and subject, Spring and Autumn, and the jianghu – all were consumed one by one with the Green Ant liquor, until he finally fell asleep at the table.

Xu Fengnian and Xu Xiao went to the peak of Qingliang Mountain for a private talk, the content of which remained unknown to outsiders.

The next morning, Xu Fengnian traveled to Wudang Mountain. He sat lost in thought near the Turtle-Bearing Stele on Little Lotus Peak, gazing up at the clear, high sky for a long time before finally covering his face with his hands.

A few riders quietly returned to the city. The Crown Prince visited the braised beef shop, but it was permanently closed. Naturally, he wouldn't see the stern-faced girl who served every customer there again.

On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month that year, Xu Fengnian went alone to the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva's temple to strike the bell 108 times, on behalf of Xu Xiao.

At dusk on the Lantern Festival, red lanterns adorned every household. The Crown Prince went out for a stroll with a few women of vastly different statuses. Unexpectedly, White Fox Face accompanied them. They avoided the bustling markets, choosing a quiet tavern instead. They went to the second floor, ordered some delicate pastries, and asked the waiter to warm a pot of yellow wine.

On the first floor, a blind old man and his granddaughter earned a living by storytelling. He tapped bamboo clappers and narrated, while the thin, pale girl sat on a small stool, accompanying him on a pipa. The pipa was of poor quality, and her skills were rough, far from heavenly music. The blind artist had just finished a short warm-up piece about how "our Princess of Beiliang played drums in white" when the Crown Prince began drinking. Because the tavern was secluded and most citizens were preparing for the Lantern Festival market, there were few patrons on the first floor and even fewer on the second. Xu Fengnian and White Fox Face drank facing each other. After a moment, Xu Fengnian beckoned the waiter to send a bowl of warm yellow wine to the old man and his granddaughter downstairs.

When the wine was delivered to the first floor, the blind old man said something to his granddaughter, who stood up with her pipa and bowed towards the second floor.

The blind storyteller borrowed a stool from the tavern, placed the wine bowl beside him, and whenever he got excited while narrating, he would raise his hand and take a sip.

He spoke of the hoofbeats of Beiliang.

He spoke of the wolf smoke rising throughout the Spring and Autumn period.

Unconsciously, he eventually spoke of the Prince of Beiliang's words by the Guangling River.

The Crown Prince listened quietly as the storyteller drank and spoke with closed eyes, his own face expressionless.

Perhaps trying to match her grandfather's fluctuating emotions, the little girl played the pipa with great effort, her face flushed, struggling to keep up. When the blind artist came back to himself, he tremblingly reached out, stroked his granddaughter's head, then reached for his wine, only to find it empty. The old man put the bowl back, smacked his lips, seemingly still wanting more, but not regretful. He merely muttered to himself, "Old Beiliang soldier Han Wenhu, today, I feel as if I've drunk the heroic spirit of the great river flowing east. What fine wine!"